


Blue sheets

by Captain_Mercurian



Series: Blue [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Break Up, Cheating, Hooker!Peter, Imagine whoever you want as Killians wife, M/M, married!killian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Mercurian/pseuds/Captain_Mercurian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll give you one last chance,” he said, lips trembling and eyelids fluttering. “Pick up the ring and I am gone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue sheets

Killian didn’t love her. He really didn’t.  
  
The lack of her warmth in their shared bed and the absence of her calm steady irritated him, especially with their previous argument freshly lit in his mind. It had been about Peter (of course it had). His whole life seemed to revolve around that boy and it frustrated both of them to no end.

She was sick of keeping that sassy prat here, particularly due to Peter becoming more and more arrogant towards her as if his new status as Killian’s “secret boyfriend” entitled him to be cheeky and mean to her. Killian tried to tell him to stop and act normal, but that only ended in an argument about jealousy and cheating and _who was worse the cheater or the fling_?

Sighing he hid his face underneath his palms while sinking into the cold, feather pillow.  
  
 _“I want him gone by tomorrow night,”_ she had demanded while crossing her arms in front of her puffed up chest; _“I don’t care whether he moves to a friends or to a relatives, as long as he’s gone. Otherwise, you’ll have a serious problem with me, honey.”_ She left the day after, this morning actually, and said she would stay overnight at her sister’s, for she had no desire to ever talk to Peter again.

Killian didn’t tell him—couldn’t tell him even though he had spent the whole day with the boy. Honestly, he did try, but he didn’t have the heart to actually go through with it since every time he tried, Peter had smiled at him like that – loving and happy and so goddamn _beautiful_.   
 _How could he tell him to leave? What should he do with him?_ He couldn’t rent him an apartment or a motel room, for half of what he had saved over the years for something that didn’t matter anymore was spent. He was his boyfriend; he was responsible for him now. After all he had started this whole thing by meeting him again and again, and finally even calling it by name: a relationship.

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards by just thinking of Peter as his boyfriend. He loved him. Oh yes, he did. There was no denying any more since every cell of his body was gravitating toward him, as if his mind couldn’t let go of him for a second. He needed him like he needed the air to breathe; he was his very own kryptonite, for he made him weak and needy though he tried very hard to not ever show it to neither his wife nor Peter. He had to get a hold of himself so he could snap back to reality.   
Peter was like a drug and, like every addiction, it was destroying him and his whole life while pushing him into a black hole he’d be incapable of escaping ever again.

She was right. He had to get rid of him urgently, but _how could he do that now that he raised that boy’s hopes? Could he ever be cruel enough to just kick the boy out onto the streets right after creeping into his heart?_ After all, this whole thing didn’t only influence his own life, but Peter’s too.   
He didn’t know what to do for he felt paralyzed by the mere thought of breaking Peter’s heart and his own in the very same breath.

Sighing he massaged his temple before turning to his side and trying to find some sleep. Maybe he’d have a better chance of finding a solution for this after a good portion of slumber.  
  
Peter put a spoke in his wheel though just as his vision clouded and consciousness weakened.  
  
He didn’t notice before that the boy snuck into his room until he felt a body lie down next to him. There was warm breath grazing the sensitive skin of his ear and he swallowed as small cold hands touched the naked skin right above the waistband of his boxers. “Peter,” he whispered fluttering his eyes open and escaping his touch by sitting up in the bed, “what do you think you’re doing?” Killian had tried to sound scolding and harsh, but his voice ended up being weak and needy for he knew exactly what Peter had been about to do and _by_ _god, he craved it_.

The boy chuckled and placed himself on his lap, sliding his arms around Killian’s neck and softly kissing his yearning lips. Killian tried to resist, kept his hands roaming in the air not daring to actually touch him. The lithe young body shifted closer and his kiss started to get more demanding and even a little violent as Killian refused to cooperate.

“What the hell’s wrong this time?” Peter groaned obviously annoyed as he retreated and clawed his fingers into Kilian’s hair, softly yanking at his black strands. “Why? Why do you keep rejecting me? First, you tell me you want me properly and now that she’s finally gone and we have the fucking opportunity to actually do it ‘properly’ you still—”

“This is our damn marriage-bed, Peter!” Killian blurted out and pushed Peter off him resulting in a thud. “This is where we sleep every night – we as in HER and me, my WIFE!”

Redness slowly crept onto Peters cheeks as he glared with suppressed fury. “Oh, so now she’s suddenly sacred?!” he barked half-laughing, though, he didn’t sound amused at all as he clawed his way back to Killian’s lap, his nails digging into his shoulders as he gnashed his teeth; “We were fucking in your goddamn car which you both share, too, or did you forget that spontaneously?!”  
Killian didn’t answer; he shifted his gaze and moved to reach for his shirt. Small hands triggered him to pause as they rested on his chest. Not even daring to look at the boy, he averted his gaze to the lonely shirt, for he knew that he would give in to him and his beautiful emeralds with a single glance. Tender kisses were placed all over his shoulder blades as the slender fingers of those smooth palms found their way into his boxers hunting, finding, claiming their intended hardening target.

Killian’s breath hitched at the rough touch. He wanted to reach out for the boy’s delicate wrists and make him stop, but he couldn’t bring it upon himself to do it, especially as the hand around his cock began to move.

Carefully, he turned his head purposefully looking straight into jade orbs then at sculpted eyebrows and a jutted chin and two round-yet-pointy ears. He observed the slight twitches they made and facial expressions they formed, before he returned his full attention to glittering irises and condensed pupils. It was like a staring contest between them, and as it persisted Killian could feel the decision-making cortex of his brain slipping and slipping until Peter’s eyes widened with recognition then sparkled with victory. _He had given in._ Of course he had though; there was no way to deny the boy anything, but at least in some part of his mind, Killian could deem that he indeed fought bravely. Still, nevertheless, they were in the wrong place.

“Let’s move to the guest room,” he breathed, caressing the soft back of the boy’s free hand.

Killian exhaled relieved as Peter removed his hand, shuffled off the mattress and sat on the edge waiting for him. He was quick to off the bed himself walking over to the side where Peter sat, and slowly as he neared the boy to lead him to another room a smirk crept onto his pretty, youthful face. Tenderly Peter slung his arms around his lover’s neck then proceeded to jerk him down so Killian was placed between his white, nearly naked thighs spread for him and him only now.  
  
“I want it here,” he purred, statically lifting his barely clothed hips; “ _I want to be in her place_ …”  
  
That was it; his self-control crumbled faster than he could even realize that his hands turned automatic. They were shredding the boy’s boxers from his body and crawling their way up the mattress so as to be eye level with the youth as he bent down to kiss him hard and passionate, all tongue and teeth. He could hear the shirt tearing on the collar as he violently undressed the small body underneath him. Peter’s face was already flushed as he cupped his cheeks to kiss and bite him – to taste him and his blood so as to forget about cherry red lipstick and wedding bands and promises whispered right here.

Not a single place was left untouched as calloused, experienced hands and lips roamed over the beautiful body spread out right under him to be loved and caressed for as long potentially possible. Grazing against the boy’s sharp and prominent hipbones with his teeth, he purposely ignored the pleas demanding his attention be directed elsewhere to something far more sensitive—Peter’s stiff cock that was already leaking. Killian promptly ignored the cries though, even as rough kicks bruised his sides.

“Stop that!” Peter gasped and bumped his clenched fists onto his shoulder as if his thrashing feet weren’t enough to get the man’s attention; “Stop, stop, stop… I need you to – _Goddammit_ , Killian, just fucking do it already!”

Killian chuckled before finally licking his fingers with a fiery, almost animalistic, appeal in his eyes as he observed the way Peter’s body shuddered from anticipation. The boy wasn’t the only one losing his patience as Killian carefully slid his slickened forefinger inside him, moving in and out, adding one - two – three - fingers and spreading them as wide as he could.

“Hnnhh…..! C-come on, I-I’m ready dammit…!” the boy moaned and lifted his hips to meet his slow movements.  
  
Shushing him softly he began to thrust into the heat underneath him, watching Peter’s mouth fall open as he fucked him with his fingers, not averting his gaze for one second. Never had he seen anybody fall apart like that, especially not just by his fingers. Suddenly he realized what the hell he had missed out on until now; Killian had wasted ~~his~~ their time for so long with rushed meaningless fucks he only remembered in a blurry kind of way.

Goosebumps were sprouting along the length of his arm as he watched Peter’s fingers clawing into the blue sheets, plucking at them as he failed to bury his nails into the cotton fabric. Propping his arm next to Peter’s torso he reached out for the small hand and started to tenderly stroke the soft skin.  
Opening his green eyes he met Killian’s gaze who found himself shocked at the frankness in those emeralds, the sincere infatuation and the want. If he ever doubted Peter’s feelings towards him before, he now knew for sure: the boy _loved_ him. He fucking _loved_ him.

The revelation filled his gut with courage and elation and the burning need to claim, to take what’s supposed to be his. So he removed his fingers and watched as Peter grinned spreading his legs further apart and relaxing into the blue bedspread. The next move was quite sudden (just enough to jolt Peter’s lithe form) as Killian slammed with a single thrust into the sweat-coated, trembling body beneath him hard and impatient. For a split moment he was worried about hurting the boy (almost ignoring the way his own cock was surrounded by heat and tightness and— _goddammit_ ), but the scream leaving those red swollen lips had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with lust.  
It wasn’t long until Peter’s nails found their way into Killian’s skin scratching down the length of his upper arms while kicking his feet into the air as the man didn’t move, for he wanted to fix this beautiful sight in his mind.

“Fuck, Killian – Just… Just _move_!” he groaned and lifted his hips, eager for his lover to pound into him so he could finally find the pleasure he felt so desperate for.

Tenderly stroking Peter’s thigh, the young lad finally held still as Killian hooked his arms with the hollow of the boy’s knees so he could lift his lower body from the mattress and get to his knees on his own. Leaning forward he placed his hands next to Peter’s head, drinking in the way his plump lips trembled and his eyelids fluttered, almost hiding the mesmerizing embers with his long, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, softly smiling down at him and pecking his lips; “You’re _beautiful_ , Peter.”

Killian would have never guessed that his cheeks could get any redder, but he was proved wrong as Peter’s face seemed to glow a shocking pink (the hue traveling as far back as his ears). About to say something Peter cut him short by shaking his head and pulling him down so he could hide his face in the crook of the man’s neck. He knew better than to mention it and get the boy more embarrassed than he probably was, so he just pressed his lips against strands of clean, dirty blond hair and shifted even a little closer.  
  
Slowly he started to move, whispering sweet nonsense into the boy’s soft locks and taking in the shudders and quiet moans underneath him. His abdomen felt utterly hot and his thighs tingled with want. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins telling him to move faster and harder; but his mind told him to be soft and loving, for he had sworn not to ever treat Peter as a mere hooker any longer. Silk hands groped at his back trying to get a hold on his heated, sticky skin as Killian’s mouth wandered lower, over his ear and down to his long graceful neck.

Peter made the prettiest sounds Killian had ever heard, high-pitched and weak in a way he never thought the boy capable of. Usually he was so in control while doing this, not by showing any dominance; but by doing it with a certain touch of routine, expressing how his heart had nothing to do with it, that even though Killian possessed full power over his fragile body he couldn’t harm his mind. Now that he thought of it, that control had faltered by each time they were together - but not like this. Peter seemed so vulnerable and Killian knew that he was in a state that could easily break him. And he’d have to. There was no way around that.

Pushing the thought off his mind he captured Peter’s moist lips in a tender, longing kiss as if trying to apologize for what he was about to do after this was over. The boy responded eagerly, pressing his hot sweaty thighs against Killian’s hips just as he let go of his knees to grip his pelvis instead. His movements became jerkier, erratic and he let out a deep moan that almost sounded like a growl. Everything felt hot and wet and Peter was so fucking tight and eager for this. His skin stung as short fingernails clawed his back and teeth sunk into the crook of his neck. His intentions for vanilla sex definitely tossed out of the window.

The longer it lasted the more desperate it got, and Killian started to suspect Peter of knowing what was about to come.  
  
“Hah- Hahhh…. Ah, Killian…” He felt the boy’s breath grazing his ear as the sweat lingering on his skin grew cold of it; “I-I… I can’t –“

Immediately Killian reached for the ignored, dripping small cock and started to pump it furiously. Crying out Peter threw back his head with tears glimmering in his eyes and his cheeks flushing as vibrant as before. He arched his back high as hot, sticky white droplets sputtered onto his chest; the sight threw Killian over the cliff as he thrust into him one last time filling the boy to the brink with his seed.  
  
All at once he found themselves in complete silence except for their heavy breaths. Peter’s limps were still shaking and Killian slowly slid out to sit back on his lower legs. Staring at the sprawled out body on the blue sheets of their—nausea stirred in his gut _—_ the blue sheets of their _fucking marriage-bed_.

This was so wrong.

This was so sick.

This was-  
  
“ _Disgusting._ ”  
  
Peter perched onto his elbows as those words were spoken, his eyes wide as he stared at Killian with an awestruck expression. Only then Killian realized what he had said right into his lover’s face.

“What?” Peter asked his voice shaky with traces of utter disbelief.

He could feel his jaw trembling as ‘nothing’ and ‘never mind’ built up in his throat, but neither vibrated off his tongue; instead, he repeated those horrifying words as he lost all control over his own fucking mind: “ _This is disgusting_.”

The boy flinched as if he had been smacked across the face, and Killian couldn’t hold his words in as he stuttered, spoke, shouted on about how wrong and disgusting their act was and _how the hell could he do something horrible like that?_

“… _and with a fucking prostitute—”_

He slammed his mouth shut.

Time seemed to slow down in that moment as the last syllable rang off Killian’s lips. He knew that was the end of it; the one line that would send Peter’s running out the doors just as his wife asked, and it was heart wrenching.  
Peter’s jaw hung slack, his crystalline eyes glossed over as they took on a thin red hue, and his body shuttered uncontrollably. His breathing shook like there was something caught in his throat (not words) that he couldn’t let out.

  
“Did— did you just—?” Peter’s voice was high-pitched and cracked as he carefully removed himself from underneath Killian and stood up off the bed, still naked and flushed. He tried to say something – _anything_ – yet nothing left his lips.   
“You said I wasn’t a hooker to you,” the boy whispered and clenched his fists as if he wanted to punch Killian but restrained himself; “You said—you said I was your boyfriend! I thought you- you lo- you _liked_ me!”

_Lo-_

_Love?_   
  
He did. He _did_ and he knew that he had to tell him, right now, but then again this boy was destroying his life; he was his doom. Peter was too young - not even legal - he was a boy and a hooker with no academic achievement at all and therefore no actual future. _What kind of life could he have with someone like that?_

“You’re just like everyone else,” he spat and started to dress with rapid pace; “I should have known better, of course you wouldn’t be with me! Why would you?! After all, I am nothing but a filthy little prostitute; how could you leave your retarded wife for something as dirty and embarrassing as me?!”  
  
“Fuck! No! Listen,” Killian blurted out and stood up, jumping into his pajama trousers as Peter started to head for the hallway; “Peter, hold on—” The boy tore open the door, stumbling out with wobbling legs still sore from a mere few minutes ago. Killian stopped for a second as the cold hit his naked skin but in the end he stepped out to follow him.  
“Peter!” he shouted and the boy finally halted turning towards him, reaching into his coat pocket and holding a shiny little something in his hand.

A ring. _His_ ring.

Peter forced a smile to his lips, laughing ~~crying~~ and then he turned his gaze to Killian baring his teeth as he snarled, “I took this from you _a week ago_ , right off your finger, and you haven’t even _noticed_ , did you?!” His voice was cruel and unforgiving as he continued, “and neither did she too I bet.”  
Killian wanted to say something – _anything_ – in his defense but his head was spinning and he found himself incapable of raising his voice.

“I’ll give you one last chance,” he said, lips trembling and eyelids fluttering. “Either you choose me – fully and unashamed – and you fucking leave that stupid bitch that doesn’t even try to love you, or you can go and fuck yourself.”  
Before Killian could even move Peter raised his arm and threw the ring to the other side of the street in one swift motion. For a tiny little moment time stood still as he stared at Peter disbelievingly, feeling numb and unable to cope with the ultimatum Peter had just given him: _what he’s grown accustomed to versus some new, reckless adventure._

“Pick up the ring and I am gone,” he warned, shaking and obviously ignoring the beginning tears to fall and freeze to his cheeks.

Killian wanted to reach for the boy and hold him, wanted to tell him all the things he left unsaid for he had never been brave, really. But his brain told him to let him go since Peter was too young and broken for them to have anything similar to a normal life.  
The hooker and the pervert; that would be what everyone would see in them. Killian could go to jail for this; his life would be ruined.

His naked skin was burning in the cold and his gaze shifted from Peter to somewhere behind him where he had thrown the ring just a moment ago.  
Slowly he made his way over, feeling his fingers twitch for he suppressed the need to touch the boy and choose a path leading towards a cliff. Walking right past him without even a second glance, he quickened his pace and headed right towards the little hole in the snow to pick up the ring.

There was a high-pitched sob behind him, heartbreaking and shaky, and Killian felt his cheeks sting from the tears he didn’t even notice until they were nearly freezing on his skin.

He quacking found the ring and clutched it in both his hand against his heart as he kneeled in the snow like a coward about to be punished. He ~~couldn’t~~ wouldn’t watch the boy walk away, for if he did he’d lose every scrap of his self-control and he would run towards him to take it all back; the noise of rapid footsteps retreating to the distance were enough as is. Then, after what felt like hours, Killian turned around to find the place where Peter had stood to be barren with snow having already filled where his footprints once were.  
  
Killian didn’t love him. He really didn’t.  
  
Or at least that was what he was trying to tell himself.

 

 


End file.
